


kisstletoe misses

by sylveonimbus (cloud_sakura)



Series: cloud's christmas presents [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: (i included everyone mentioned i'm sorry even if they're just /mentioned/), M/M, implied sourin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2744699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloud_sakura/pseuds/sylveonimbus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>insert cheesy christmas tropey best friends to boyfriends fic summary here.</p>
<p>yes, the spoonerism is intended, because they're awkward idiots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kisstletoe misses

**Author's Note:**

> This one is mainly for Jocelyn, Steffi and Talia, my makoharu garbage friends. Love you, assholes, and have a happy (REALLY early) Christmas!

Haruka loves summer because then he can swim in the ocean and Makoto always yells at him about how dangerous it is, how he might float out too far, but sometimes he’ll join him and try to tear after him, laughing when he gets the salt water in his eyes. He’s always out of the water before Haruka is, though. The water likes him, but Makoto’s never loved the water quite like Haruka does.

That’s okay, though. Makoto’s always good for Haruka, for him to remember that he has a life outside the water. They’re only seven years old and sometimes Mrs Tachibana will make a worried face at him when he returns from swimming in the ocean in April, gently scolding him about getting a cold, and Haruka will stand and take it quietly because she always warms him up and cooks him mackerel afterwards, and because Makoto always makes the same face at him when he gets out of the water and wraps a towel around him. He takes it because at seven years old, he sees more of the Tachibanas than he does of his own parents, and Makoto might not love the water like he does, but the Tachibanas – Makoto –

Makoto loves Haruka. It’s not even something he has to question, not even when he’s seven and they’ve barely known each other for two years. He’s loved him as far back as Haruka can remember, from when they were in kindergarten together and Haruka was the taller one, waiting after dark with him, waiting for his parents to come and pick him up from school.

Haruka doesn’t know when Makoto started to love him, but he can tell that it was sometime during that week, when he asked him to colour with him, and then later waited with him for two hours in an empty classroom, protecting him from the shadow-ghosts in the corridors.

“Do you think shadow-ghosts lurk in the evening on Christmas too?” Makoto asks him, his hand warm in his, and Haruka looks up at him. It’s strange, realizing that Makoto got taller than him in the last year, and that he’ll probably keep shooting up. Mr Tachibana is very tall, after all, taller than Haruka’s father, even, and he’s going to be just like his father.

“There are no such things as shadow-ghosts,” Haruka says, almost automatically (he’s spent a good half of a year convincing himself and Makoto of this), and Makoto looks towards the back porch fearfully. Makoto’s cousins have set up the Christmas tree in the sitting room and most of the family is assembled there. Haruka’s been shooed out of the kitchen twice, first for asking for mackerel (“No mackerel on Christmas, Haru-chan!” Mrs Tachibana had admonished, waving her pan at him,) and then for mackerel flavoured cookies (“I’ll get you some chips like those the next time I find them in the supermarket,” Makoto’s cool elder cousin had promised, giving him a fist bump.) so he’s not going back in there, and instead tugs Makoto towards the porch. “There aren’t any ghosts here, see, there’s only going to be fireworks soon, and then –

Something moves in the porch, and Makoto hides behind him. “Did you see that?” he hisses, and Haruka tries to not break out in a cold sweat.

“It can’t be ghosts,” he insists obstinately. He didn’t get out of the hot bath early today for this. They’re going to watch the fireworks, and then go up to Makoto’s room and play Tobidase. He’s not going to be afraid of stupid shadows. He moves forward, conscious of Makoto’s hold on his shirt. _I need to protect him. Stupid ghosts can’t get to Makoto._

In fact, he’s sure that they aren’t ghosts. He can see human feet from here, and he tries not to let the relief show on his face. He has to remain cool.

“See, they’re just people,” he starts to say, and then realizes what they’re looking at.

There are two people kissing under the mistletoe and it looks so. So. Weird.

Makoto nearly shrieks but then they break apart and the boy – Haruka recognizes him as one of Makoto’s cousin’s friends – quickly stammers out an apology and walks out. The two of them shrink into the shadows and watch the other one – the aforementioned cousin – go after the boy.

“What were they...why were they _kissing_?” Makoto says, in a puzzled voice, and Haruka nearly laughs. He’d have smiled if he wasn’t feeling a little grossed out.

“They probably love each other very much,” he comments and edges towards the porch. The rest of the family is probably watching and letting off fireworks in the front yard so this place will be comparatively silent.

“But they’re not married! Or like, under mistletoe!”

“You just need to love the other person, I think,” Haruka says, dismissively. The fireworks are gorgeous, and he doesn’t realize where they’re now standing until –

“Haru,” Makoto says, in a horrified tone, and points up.

There’s a sprig of mistletoe over their heads. Oh. He’s seen some of the adults get caught under it all day and kiss because of it, even though some of Makoto’s sisters have tried to cover their eyes whenever she caught them looking. It’s all a little silly. You don’t really need to kiss the other person. Right.

He looks over at Makoto, who is fidgeting with his shirt, and not meeting his eyes, and sighs. “Makoto, what is it?”

“I...I love you, Haru!” Haruka bites back his laughter at his best friend’s discomfort. He even has a tear or two in his eyes.

“Do you want to-?” he begins, and then Makoto leans over and kisses his cheek, and looks suitably horrified after doing so. Haru’s cheek is wet, and he doesn’t know whether it’s Makoto’s tears or something else, but either way a hanky is suddenly being pressed to his cheek and wiping it off. “That’s so gross, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” Haruka says, and wonders why Makoto is so strange, sometimes.

“I’m glad,” Makoto says, smiling through his tears, and that’s probably the moment, as grossed out as he is, that Haruka realizes he loves Makoto too.

“Me too,” he says, unnecessarily. “Can we go play on Wii now?”

***

Haruka is eighteen, and he knows now that there are no such things such as shadow-ghosts, and Makoto knows that too, but he also knows that there are some things that cannot be changed, like the grateful look in green eyes back then and right now, whenever he looks at him, and Haruka has to look away because he doesn’t know how to feel, how not to feel. Makoto is Makoto but he is so much more complicated.

So much has changed.

He puts the cake mix in the oven and closes the door, talking into the phone. So much has changed in these past two years. Rin. Rin has come back to him, to all of them, and made him realize that he’s able to feel emotions outside of guilt again, feel everything that is outside of the water. Rin had always rather been like a storm, his feelings infectious and able to turn the most cold-hearted person’s heart. Rin should know what to do.

At least, that’s what he had thought.

“Tell him, then,” Rin says, his voice a little high, like he’s about to giggle.

“Are you about to laugh at me?” Haruka says bluntly, and honestly, Rin is such a handful. Haruka hates him as much as he loves him most days, and this feeling intensifies when Rin actually lets out the laugh he had been holding in. “I’m going to hang up.”

“No, don’t hang up!” Rin stops, the chuckle not quite gone from his voice. “All right, so you want to tell him you like him, so isn’t the best way to show him that? God knows that Makoto reads your mind enough.”

But that’s the thing, is what is left unsaid. You’re terrible at communication, even when it’s Makoto. He’d appreciate it more if you just...told him.

“He loves you too, you know. But you’re probably too stupid to realize it sometimes, and do stupid things about it.” Rin says finally, his voice suddenly soft, like he knows. Like he knows what it’s like, what Haruka feels like, and Haruka remembers Yamazaki cornering him against the vending machines, misguided attempts to protect Rin, and almost feels angry before he remembers Kisumi, and his shameless attempts to stop his overly-friendly advances, and feels ashamed instead. “He’s going to come over soon.”

“Hang mistletoe over your door and kiss him.”

“I’m not going to do that!” Haruka says, exasperated even as a blush rises to his cheeks, and Rin’s peals of laughter start again. “This is your chance to be romantic too, please tell me you’re not passing up on that.”

“You’re a terrible friend,” he tells Rin, and Rin simply teases, “Looks like your Christmas is going to be a happy one before I even get there, _Haru-chan_ ,” and hangs up before Haruka can retort. It’s all right, though, Haruka always wins the banter wars. He’ll have a comeback ready later.

He’ll probably have to thank Rin later.

No, wait, that would mean telling Rin that something happened, and Rin would laugh into next year. Not happening. Not until he gets a clip of Yamazaki making out with Rin on his phone or something equally horrendous. Maybe he can get Nagisa to do something about this.

Or not, considering that Nagisa hung bundles of mistletoe everywhere on the ceiling when he came over in the afternoon, exchanging subtle glances with Gou and Rei. Haruka groans as he gets to his feet. Taking down all of them is going to be a nightmare, especially since he’s going to have to drag the chair all over the place to reach them.

The bell rings just as he’s taking down the last bough. He looks up at the porch, desperately trying to reach it, but then it rings again, and Makoto’s letting himself into the house, the door is open as usual, and Haruka swears under his breath before going to hide the rest of the mistletoe. He can hear Makoto step into the living room, the tap of his feet against the wood, and he stuffs the mistletoe in a dark corner of his bedroom.

“Haru?”

“I’m here,” he says, coming out of the room, hands automatically coming up to fix his hair. He feels self-conscious as he finally comes into Makoto’s line of view, and his best friend beams at him.

There’s no reason to be nervous. He’s your best friend.

Makoto’s smile becomes a little strained as Haru goes into the kitchen. “Haru, please tell me we aren’t having mackerel.”

“No mackerel on Christmas,” Haru says, and feels a strange déjà vu. Suddenly he’s seven again, and in the Tachibana household, asking for mackerel flavoured Christmas cookies.

Seven again, and just in from a hot bath, thoughts of Makoto about to visit pulling him out of there and getting him dressed so they could go play at Makoto’s house and watch fireworks with him.

_I’m not going to think about that time._

“No baths, either?” Makoto asks, and he’s leaning over the counter next to him, looking up at him as he starts to take out the cookie dough he’s had covered with foil. Nagisa eats a lot, but these are Makoto’s favourites. Makoto seems to realize that, if the warm look he gives Haruka is any indication. He feels that look in his toes, and looks away, studiously staring at the timer on the oven. Two minutes left.

“Hot bath,” he says. “Not now, though, the others will be here soon enough.” He takes out the animal-shaped cookie cutters he’d bought recently, and he has to turn away as Makoto picks up the shark and penguin ones to examine them. He huffs, avoiding Makoto’s  smile, and gets to work with the whale one. Makoto puts down the penguin one and picks up the butterfly, still smiling fondly, and Haruka hates what it does to his heart, even with his back now turned to him.

“They were on sale,” Haruka shrugs.

“You’re so predictable, Haru,” his best friend says as he starts to cut out the cookie dough with the butterfly cutter, but the smile is still in his voice. This entire conversation is so predictable, he doesn’t say, and wonders why – how, Makoto’s stability, the assurance that I’m here, I’m always here, feels special, wonders how he didn’t see it before. Makoto always does so much – too much, and Haruka can never be grateful enough.

If he lets it go on this way, will it be okay? Is it all right to let him take the lead? Makoto has always been comfortable, taking care of him. Maybe he’ll even say yes.

Maybe he could let it remain this way and nothing would ever happen. Would that be easier?

“Is that lemon cake? Can I have a slice??” Makoto asks, as the timer goes off. Haruka puts down the cookie cutter to check on the cake. It seems to have risen properly, so he puts on his glove and takes it out, wielding a knife in the other hand as he sets it down on the counter. The knife comes out with crumbs.

It’s perfect.

“I’ll cut some for you once it’s cooled, don’t be greedy,” Haruka admonishes, swatting away Makoto’s hand. He doesn’t look in the least repentant though, mischief in his eyes. “You know how I am with sweet things, right?”

“You’re not stealing any this time.” It feels a little like history repeating itself, and he’s growing more flushed by the second. “Nagisa’s going to attack the lemon cookies when he sees it anyway so – don’t eat the dough, Makoto!”

“It won’t make me that sick,” he argues, even as he chews on it and laughs at Haruka’s expression. Plus they won’t be around for at least an hour or so, and I need snacks for the fireworks show!”

“You can have some of the older cookies.” Makoto is such a child at Christmas. He thinks it’s probably the proximity of sweets.

“You’re so sweet, Haru-chan, I love you!” _I love sweets. I love you._ Haruka tries not to smile and fails miserably.

_“Because we all love you, Haru.”_

It should be a mood-killer, remembering that now – but he can’t help but think about it, said along with the fireworks in the distance just months ago; because it’s so true, and relevant, because Makoto’s said it before. Makoto always shows it too.

Isn’t it his move, now?

It can’t be that hard, right?

“It is time for the fireworks,” Haruka says, as he puts the cookies in the oven. He sets the timer. “They should be starting them any moment now, actually.” It’s five minutes to eight, and everyone has promised to watch the fireworks with their families, and Makoto’s here with him.

That’s supposed to mean something. Something special.

“Are we going to go to the backyard?” Makoto asks, licking off the rest of the stolen dough from his fingers. Haruka looks away, trying to tamp down the involuntary shiver down his spine.

Has he been floating, all this time?

Isn’t it time that he got out of the tub himself, to greet him?

“There’s something familiar about this porch –” Makoto pauses. Looks up. His entire face shows the change, the widening of verdant eyes, the sudden tightening of his focus as he looks back.

He’s good at telling. He can do this. But sometimes Makoto understands better when he shows him. Properly.

“Mistletoe,” Haruka says. Needlessly, because Makoto’s already looking at him, comprehension flaring in his eyes. “I – Haru, do you want...?”

So he leans in and awkwardly misses. Makoto guides him back, with a hand on his cheek and Haruka puts everything he is, everything he knows into the kiss.

He tastes like lemon dough, and his lips are soft. That’s the first thing that registers in his brain, along with the first shock of _I’m kissing my best friend, I’m kissing Makoto I’m kissing **Makoto**_ that turns the rest of the world into static noise.

“Haru, Haru...Haruka,” Makoto says, and his eyes are shining. Don’t cry, Haruka wants to say, Makoto should never cry, especially not for this, _I apologize, I’d never thought what I should tell you,_ but there are warm arms around him and Makoto crying into his shoulder, and warm breath on his ear as he whispers thank you, thank you, fervently, and Haruka’s cheeks grow hot at what this might mean, what this might imply, but mostly because Makoto sounds so happy.

“You want this?” he says, hesitant still, even though they’re on the porch on Christmas night and the mistletoe hanging over their heads no longer feels like an executioner’s guillotine but more like a miracle.

“I, I do,” Makoto promises, letting him go of the hug and holding his hands in his. “I always have. I – always, Haru. Have I ever denied you anything?”

“That’s the reason I’m worried,” Haruka deadpans, studying his face. Makoto’s eyes have tears in them, and the light from the starting fireworks cast reflections in his eyes like a Christmas miracle, red and green and iridescent yellow.

“Would I ever lie to you about something like this, Haru-chan?” Makoto says, and yes, that’s the best friend he knows –

( _loves_ )

–and Haruka smiles, and leans in to kiss him again, relishing in the gasp of breath that issues from his mouth. The fact that Rin and Rei and Nagisa and Gou will be coming over for the Christmas party soon and might discover them in this position is not a good thing, as is as the lightheaded floaty feeling like the one he gets every time he swims too far out in the ocean (he should breathe, he’s going to breathe in a second,) but it’s okay, because –

“Haru, we should, we should stop,” Makoto says in the small gap between their kisses, his hands on Haruka’s waist, face flushed and beautiful, and worried “you need to breathe –”

– he can always come back when he knows Makoto’s always waiting at the shore.

***

**Epilogue**

“Was that better than the first time?”

“It was definitely better than the first time. I thought you had boy cooties.”

“...Is that why you started crying?”

“I’M A SENSITIVE PERSON AND ALL THE GIRLS SAID BOYS HAD COOTIES TOO.”

“Why are we talking about cooties?” Gou says, coming through the open door, and groans. “Nagisa-kun, you totally cheated about the location!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nagisa says in a saintly manner, as Makoto splutters, leaning away from Haruka and looking at a scandalized Rei. To make matters worse, Rin pokes his head in through the doorway, grinning. “Nagisa, where’s my share?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll split them up, Rin-chan!”

“Why are you like this,” Makoto moans, and Haruka looks unimpressed as he gets up to get the cookies.

“Don’t worry, it’s Nagisa’s or Rei’s turn now.”

“HARUKA-SENPAI!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. Since I’m writing for a notp for the first time I’m really not sure how well I did, but I figured that writing something for them and getting the itch out of my multishipping soul would do me good. Tl;dr this is just an experiment with fluff and I apologize if it got ooc at any point I’M REALLY NOT USED TO WRITING THEM ROMANTICALLY LIKE EVER, sorry. I hope you enjoyed it, nonetheless!


End file.
